The Promise Read Online Free PDF Page B

to twice its actual value. A fact he would not discoveruntil a year later. Tom and Jean had spent all they had to get into this place. They wound up furnishing and decorating it with credit cards. His father would’ve pitched a fit had he known. Jean was uncomfortable about it, but Tom knew better. He had eased her fears with a barrage of well-thought-out rationalizations. Look, he had a fairly high-paying, cutting-edge IT job with a regional banking firm, and he was certain to get a number of promotions very soon. They’d pay off the credit cards then.
    That was the plan.
    Gazing at the house once more, he sighed then got out of the car. The sight sickened him. He walked up the driveway toward the front door, wondering how much time he had before he lost both the house and the car to the vultures. Pulling out his keys, he opened the front door and yelled, “Jean, I’m home.”

    From the kitchen, Jean heard the front door open and close, and Tom call out her name. He was going to wake up Carly; she’d gone down for a late nap. Oh well, Carly needed to get up anyway. “I’m in here,” she yelled. “In the kitchen.”
    Normally, she’d greet him in person, but she was shredding cheese in a bowl. She still had to spread it over the casserole and get it back in the oven for ten minutes.
    â€œDaddy!”
    Good, Tommy would greet him.
    â€œYou came home.”
    Tommy always said that, every night, as if it was some great surprise.
    â€œI did. I came home,” she heard Tom reply. It sounded like he picked Tommy up. “Where’s your sister?”
    â€œSleeping.”
    Jean heard a sweet little voice saying “Daddy home” through the monitor.
    â€œI don’t think she’s asleep anymore,” Tom said. “Let’s go see.”
    â€œOkay.”
    â€œI’m going to have to put you down. I can’t carry both of you.”
    â€œI know.”
    â€œHey, wait a minute,” Tom said. “What the . . . Jean? Where’s that portrait? The one with my dad and me and my grandfather?”
    â€œIt’s right in here,” she said. “On the kitchen counter.”
    â€œI bwoke it, Daddy.”
    â€œYou what?” His voice had a sharp edge.
    â€œNot me, it was the bwoom that did it.”
    â€œHow did a broom break the portrait, Tommy?”
    Jean shook the cheese off her fingers and wiped her hands on a dish towel. She’d better get in there. She picked up the portrait and headed toward the hallway. “It’s not really broken. It’s fine. See?” She held it out as she rounded the corner. Carly yelled out “Daddy” again, a little louder. Tommy stood next to his father, his face on the verge of tears.
    Tom all but grabbed it out of her hand. “Let me see.”
    Did he have another bad day at work or was his love of this portrait bordering on obsession? Either way, this was a ridiculous overreaction. She bent down to pick up Tommy. “It’s okay, Tommy.”
    â€œDaddy’s mad.” His bottom lip began to pout. “Daddy’s mad at me.”
    â€œI’m not mad at you,” Tom said, not even looking up from the portrait. His voice had the same edge. “It looks the same. I don’t see any new damage.”
    Carly began to cry, loudly enough to hear downstairs. “I told you, it’s fine.” Jean walked toward the steps, still carrying Tommy.
    â€œI’ll get her,” Tom said. “I told you I would.” He came down the hall, still holding the picture. “You go finish up in the kitchen.”
    She set Tommy down. “You want to give me that?” Pointing at the portrait with her eyes. Tom handed it back to her. “Come on, Tommy. You come with me.”
    â€œIs Daddy going to spank me?”
    â€œNo, he’s not.”
    â€œI’m not even mad at you, Tommy,” Tom said.
    Jean took Tommy’s hand, and they